


i haven't been by your side in a minute

by honey_pots



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst and Feels, Endgame Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor, F/F, Future Fic, Rating Might Change, Requited Unrequited Love, and now she's back, kara got married and has a daughter, kinda sorta, lena ran away to sort out her feelings, like early to mid 30s, they're older, we'll see
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-07-19 07:07:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19970011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honey_pots/pseuds/honey_pots
Summary: She leaves the mother-daughter pair behind.Runs. Regrets.Because there is something undeniably broken between them.And Lena has no one to blame but herself.-or Lena comes home after years away and finds that some things have changed while others haven't. Unfortunately for her, her feelings fall into things that haven't changed.





	i haven't been by your side in a minute

**Author's Note:**

> This one is going to be angsty. I hope it reads well. I've been fighting a writer's block, so I'm sorry if it's not the best. I intended to post this earlier but I had two versions of this chapter, and I debated back-and-forth for a while on which to post. And then I kept editing, and if I change any more of this than I'll end up not posting it. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the read. Let me know what you think. And, as always, thank you for all the comments, kudos, and/or bookmarks.

_I feel a little nauseous and my hands are shaking_

_I guess that means you're close by_

_My throat is getting dry and my heart is racing_

_I haven't been by your side in a minute,_

_But I think about it sometimes_

_Even though I know it's not so distant_

_Oh, no, I still wanna reminisce it_

**what a** **time** by **julia michaels feat. niall horan**

-

**One.**

_“I think this is a bad idea.”_

_Her confession couldn’t have happened at a worse time: the day before Kara’s wedding. But her mood had gradually worsened until she couldn’t hide it anymore and Kara caught on. Her friend had refused to let the subject go until she got a reason. So, heart unraveling, Lena had given an answer that was only part of the whole truth. Yet it still hurt._

_Breathing alluded the two of them in the aftermath of her confession. I left them both silent and tense. And Lena faltered when Kara’s face went pale, the blue of her eyes wide and glossy with unshed tears, before color flooded back into her cheeks. Whether it was in anger or otherwise, Lena wasn’t sure. A lump formed in her throat—perhaps from regret for the hurt she conflicted, or from fear of the repercussions to come. Still, part of her mind egged her on. She’d been silent for a long time._

_(She’d been silent since the morning she’d woken up alone after a night spent with the bride-to-be.)_

_“I know you love him, but you…” Pausing, she fished for the right words and desperately willed herself not to let the crinkle between blonde brows dampen her conviction. “You deserve so much more than to settle down with a man who refused to plan his own wedding. Marriage shouldn’t weigh a person down, but Kara— **he** will! I’ve seen it happen. We’ve _ **_all_ ** _seen it happen! He hasn’t been good for you since day one. And I can’t watch you get married to him, especially when I—”_

_“Stop,” a plea; quiet yet effective. “Just… stop.”_

_“Kara…”_

_“No!” Lena flinched at the exclamation, and although Kara demurred, her voice softening, the steel in her didn’t bend a bit. “This is what I want, Lena. I’m not… making some mistake that you think you need to save me from making. This is **my**_ _decision, and I-I’m going to marry him. I **love** him. And you can either show up in support tomorrow or,” she stuttered then, lip quivering and voice cracking as she gave her ultimatum, “don’t come at all.” _

-

**Two.**

Lena comes home.

From the moment she steps foot into National City, she’s swept into catching up with familiar faces. Lena hadn’t expected much fanfare to be planned. She’s proved wrong immediately. It’s a welcomed surprise, though. Especially since her friends (family) keep it mild compared to their more… extravagant parties. A simple game night is all she needs to feel welcomed back, and they provide just that.

But it isn’t as simple as she would like it to be. For one reason only: Kara. But not for any fault of the blonde’s. Lena had left for a specific reason, working to repair her heart whole again. It had taken well over two years for her to feel that way. The patchwork of her heart was atrocious and meticulous in equal measures. She had thought herself good to come back to National City. But once she stepped back into Kara’s orbit, well, her shoddy workmanship had been plucked piece by piece by her own affections for the woman.

Clearly, she isn’t over herself in the slightest bit.

She’s not sure she ever will be.

Kara, throughout the evening, is none the wiser to the turmoil gripping Lena. At least, she hopes that she’s unaware. She can never be too certain with Kara. The blonde is uncharacteristically quiet in the company of their friends. But in the absence of familiar ramblings, Kara is just as tactile as ever. She sticks to Lena’s side during the entire event. Their arms constantly brush; her warmth bleeds into Lena’s side; when they laugh, Kara leans into her. And while Lena tries hard to not stare at her friend, the blonde doesn’t have such reservations. Any time Lena does turn to look at her, she finds blue eyes already on her, an unfamiliar gleam in them.

It’s all Heaven and Hell pulling at her soul.

She tells herself that none of it matters. None of it _should_ matter even if her heart sings in her chest. There’s nothing more to it because, at the end of the day, Kara’s home is not with her.

When it’s time to head home, Kara insists on walking with her, even though Lena only lives a couple of blocks away from Alex and Kelly’s where game night had been hosted. Lena doesn’t protest though; she doesn’t have the will to decline. No, her heart is all too happy to linger by the Kryptonian’s side.

Their walk is filled with murmurings of nothing and everything and comfortable silences in between. The cool of the night clears Lena’s head enough for guilt to start invading her heart. She tries to put distance between them. But with every step she takes away, Kara follows. She’s not sure if Kara’s aware she’s even doing that. It doesn’t take long for Lena to stop trying.

When it’s time to say goodbye, Kara pulls her into a hug. The first of many to come.

“ _Rao,_ I’ve missed you.” The words are muffled against her shoulder, but they’re clear in their wistfulness. Lena barely suppresses a shudder against the raw truth in the confession. It doesn’t help that strong arms are pressing tight around her, clinging like she might slip away too soon.

It’s a valid concern if Lena’s being honest.

The vice around her heart squeezes so tightly that she just might run away for another two-and-some years.

But for any pain that Lena may feel, and for all the pain she has endured, to see Kara again, to be in her arms again—a louder part of her mind is all too happy to be home again, and it declares that she’ll never leave it again.

That part resonates especially within her heart, and she’s certain Kara can feel it too.

She starts to pull away, feeling like their embrace has been going on for too long to be platonic anymore (and she desperately needs things to be overtly platonic). But there’s a moment where Kara resists the movement, squeezing instead of letting go. It passes in the next moment, however. And Lena doesn’t know what to make of it.

Kara doesn’t pull back completely when Lena takes a step back; her hands still clutch at the elbows of Lena’s worn sweater. The warmth of her touch permeates through the material, branding itself onto Lena’s skin.

“I’ve missed you too.” Her echoing of the sentiment is just as breathy, the tremor of her heart affecting her voice.

They stand together under the witness of Lena’s doorman, Kevin, murmuring still. And while Lena feels the creeping sensation of _I’ve taken up a lot of your time already, I’ll let you go now_ , she does not voice that thought. After all, the moments she’ll have with Kara alone will be far and few in between their days. In a few weeks’ time, Lena will return to L-Corp through the R&D department and Kara…

Well, Kara has a daughter now.

Little Lorra.

Who, despite the many wishes expressed on Kara’s part, Lena hasn’t met yet. She’s seen enough of the girl through pictures and videos sent during her travels to learn about her. But she finds herself hesitant to actually meet the girl. Not for any fault of Lorra’s, of course. Nor any of Kara’s. It’s all down to Lena. Lena and her inability to move on. To meet Lorra would be a new line—the one that keeps Lena separate from the family that Kara’s built (chosen)—to cross, and she’s not sure she should cross it. Because if she crosses it, she’s afraid that she’ll ruin things again by reading too into things. And yet—

“You’ll come over this weekend, won’t you?” Kara asks, looking at her through her lashes as if that might be enough to hide the trepidation—of what, Lena doesn’t know—in her gaze. And something simultaneously breaks and mends in Lena’s chest, an answer already on the tip of her tongue. “For Lorra’s birthday?”

“I’d love to.”

—she’s never been the best at telling Kara no. Especially not when that fear in blue eyes gives way to relief, and Kara brightens. Lena is pulled into another squeezing hug and the blonde starts rambling about her plans for her daughter’s second birthday party. Lena listens with an undeniably fond smile that somehow grows fonder as Kara starts gesticulating with one hand. She’s always thought of Kara as beautiful—pretty, handsome, ethereal—but there’s something about an overtly happy Kara that’s just something to marvel at.

Her eyes are alight with elation and her entire body exudes excitement. It’s a sight that Lena hasn’t seen in some time. The moments before she left had only been colored in stress and tension and heartbreak. But now, all of that seems to have been washed away by a new tide of life.

Lena just has to learn how to navigate through the waters, lest she drowns in them instead.

-

**Three.**

She doesn’t meet Lorra that weekend. It happens sooner than she’s prepared herself to, purely by coincidence. Lena’s on a run and cuts through Central Park when she stumbles upon them. It’s the flash of blonde hair that gets her to slow down, and she stops completely when wide blue eyes catch her gaze. Lena waves, intent on continuing her run, but a simple, enthusiastic hand wave motioning her over is all it takes for her to not go through with that.

Her already pumping heart somehow drums louder as she spots the dark-haired kid in Kara’s lap. Lena hesitates just briefly, but Kara pouts and it’s game over from there. She stops just before the blanket Kara’s laid out, surreptitiously wiping her sweating palms against her shirt. Eyes very similar to the ones that plague Lena’s dreams watch her, wide with the kind of open curiosity that only children can manage.

“Hey,” Lena greets, almost panting since she’s still trying to get her breathing under control. And then, after a moment’s hesitation, she greets Lorra too, waving uncertainly. “Hello.”

Lorra immediately turns and presses her face into Kara’s collar, hiding. But one blue, gold-dusted eyes are still turned toward her, curious. Kara laughs softly, smoothing a hand over her daughter’s back and smiling at Lena, clearly amused. Lena returns it hesitantly, unsure how to proceed. She’s never been a person who knows how to behave with kids Lorra’s age. Everything is so new to them, and they’re awfully fragile.

Kara pats the spot next to her, and Lena takes the invitation to sit, pulling her legs to her chest and resting her chin on her knee as she observes the mother-daughter pair. Lorra shifts her head around so that Lena’s in her field of vision, but she still sticks close to her mom.

“It’s Aunt Lena, _inah_ ,” Kara says, trying to coax her daughter away from her neck. And Lena’s mind is stuck on _Aunt Lena_. “Remember? I told you about her.”

Unbidden, she makes a noise of askance. “Really?”

“Of course,” she confirms like water is wet, still smiling oh, so softly at her before turning back to Lorra. “She’s _ieiu’s_ best friend.”

Best friend.

Her heart pangs brief.

Lena barely stops herself from rolling her eyes at the emotional reaction. Since when did the phrase ‘best friend’ become hurtful? She’s lucky to still be considered that after her terrible, selfish decisions. And she’s not entitled to anything more than that. She shouldn’t want more anyway. Kara’s a very taken, very married woman with—not to mention—her partner’s baby in her lap.

It’s a bit too late (or too early, rather) to go back on another ‘vacation’ to sort of her feelings. She’ll just have to continue working on ending the _I wish we were more_ mentality that is lingering in her head. After all, Kara will always be the woman of her heart, but that doesn’t mean Lena has to want more. She should be happy here by Kara’s side—she shouldn’t have that privilege at all.

She needs to remember that.

Lorra babbles then, an English _mama_ and other syllables that may or may not mean something. Kara’s coaxing has brought Lorra to peek out completely, though her fists remain clutching at her mom’s shirt. And Lena softens, reaching out to offer a high-five. Lorra reciprocates easily, giggling when Kara cheers proudly. But as Kara coos at her daughter, it’s Lena she looks at, her expression unfamiliar and a touch overwhelming the more Lena tries to decipher it. Lena looks away, eyes roaming to avoid Kara’s gaze.

That’s when she spots the shirt Lorra is wearing.

Lena snorts, amused. And Kara makes a noise of askance, the previous look on her face gone and replaced with furrowed brows. She tips her head toward Lorra, whose attention has been stolen away by something else in the park. “That’s rather bold of you, don’t you think?”

Kara looks at her daughter, the crinkle between her brows disappearing as understanding dawns on her. Blue eyes roll, and a huffing mirthless laugh escapes the Kryptonian as they both look at the House of El’s coat of arms branded on Lorra’s shirt. “Alex through she was being funny.”

“Alex,” she should’ve known. “Of course.”

“Right?” Kara sighs in fond exasperation, and Lena laughs along, well-versed in Alex’s humor. “I know it’s a little…” she makes a vague gesture in the absence of the right word, “but Lorra likes this shirt.”

“Well, it does suit her.”

They settle into a silence that is more or less companionable. Lena continues to observe the pair silently. Eventually, Lorra squirms out of her mom’s hold, pushing herself to stand and walk around. Thinking it’s best for Kara to have her attention solely on her daughter, Lena starts to rise out of her seat. But a warm hand closes around her elbow, not confining but startling enough to halt her movements. She settles back onto the blanket, blinking owlishly at the offending hand.

Following it up to blue eyes, Kara grimaces apologetically but doesn’t let go. Her cheeks have flushed pink, looking all too attractive in Lena’s mind. The touch leaves her skin tingling. She shakes off the hand slowly and it falls away without resistance, but Lena remains where she sits, arching a bemused brow.

“Stay,” is all Kara says.

And so, Lena stays.

They watch Lorra together. The girl babbles endless, squealing when she runs around. She never strays too far, but Kara does squirm where she sits when her daughter stumbles before righting herself or strays off before coming back. Yet Kara is careful to give Lorra space to run around, her eyes attentive and her body poised to chase after her daughter if the need arises. Motherhood hasn’t changed Kara in the slightest, Lena realizes. It has only given some of her instincts more practice.

“You’re good with her,” Lena says. Kara’s eyes flicker toward her and then back toward her daughter, and she hums as if to say _go on_. Lorra circles back to them after toddling after a squirrel, her eyes lighting up when she finds her mom watching her. A smile so like Kara’s, where the force of her happiness shapes her eyes into crescents, breaks out onto her face.

“Thanks,” Kara flushes and fidgets with her glasses, even though she’s not facing Lena. She hesitates just slightly before confessing, “I wasn’t like this before. When… when she was first born, I-I had a hard time bonding with her.” And, as if to emphasize the past tense, Lorra finally runs back into her mom’s waiting arms. Kara tickles at her neck, smiling along to the squealing laughter she gets. But there’s a somber look in Kara’s eyes—regret, perhaps.

“I didn’t know what to do, and I felt… so alone. I knew that I wasn’t; of course, I knew, but I couldn’t stop feeling that way. Kelly said it was postnatal depression, but… I don’t know. It went on for a long time. Months.”

Lena takes a moment to process that, surprised by this new information. She hasn’t heard anything that would suggest that Kara struggled, from her or anyone else. But that’s not anyone’s problem but her own; she was so distant, after all. Whatever she knows had been secondhand information, only a glimpse into the life Kara had made. And, of course, Kara would leave out the details that would have her worrying.

She hugs her legs tighter to her chest.

“I didn’t know that.”

“Only a few people do. I wanted to keep it lowkey, you know? You…” Kara doesn’t finish that thought, “I didn’t want to trouble you.”

“I wish you had told me. I would’ve liked to be there for you.”

Those aren’t the right words to say, however. Kara frowns, her shoulders tense, and she avoids Lena’s inquisitive gaze. “Would you really have come back if I asked you to?”

She hesitates. Inevitably, Kara’s anger showed itself. But even though Lena knew it was eventually going to, she doesn’t know how to proceed beyond stupidly opening and closing her mouth, desperately fishing for something to say that isn’t a lie. Kara’s expression only grows tighter, her shoulders rising to her ears and her eyes glossing over with unshed tears. Lorra makes a noise of distress, clearly in tune with her mom’s displeasure.

“Because I asked you to,” Kara chokes out, almost spits it. “Multiple times. And you…” she wavers just briefly, sniffling. “You didn’t come home.”

“Kara…”

“I’m sorry,” Kara cuts her off before she can even start. The anger she is entitled to, gone suddenly, and her entire body deflates, drooping. She laughs a stilted and awkward thing, ducking her head as she keeps her blues away from Lena’s gaze. “I don’t know what came over me.”

A lie? Or a cop-out.

“You have nothing to apologize for, Kara.” She reaches out, hesitating just a moment before she settles her hand against Kara’s shoulder. Lena presses her thumb into the tense muscle, guilt bubbling in her stomach when Kara only slouches further, all of her attention on her daughter. Lorra babbles, her dark brows angry, but Lena’s not sure if the girl understands why she’s angry.

“Maybe not, but I shouldn’t have said those things here.”

Which implies that Kara does intend to have this conversation elsewhere. Lena nods because yeah, it’s a conversation that should happen. On Kara’s terms no less.

The silence that blankets them next is uncomfortable; itchy. And Lena, unable to stay under it, excuses herself. This time, when she rises, there is no hand keeping her from leaving. Not physically. But emotionally, a hand grips tight at her throat when she catches Kara swiping tears away beneath the blonde curtain between them. Lorra hugs her mom tightly, making cooing noises that are not dissimilar to the noises Kara makes when she comforts someone.

“I’m sorry,” Lena whispers no louder than the wind, but the nod she gets lets her know that she is heard anyway.

She leaves the mother-daughter pair behind.

Runs. Regrets.

Because there is something undeniably broken between them.

And Lena only has herself to blame.

-

**Four.**

_In the end, Lena went to the wedding. She arrived at the venue on record time and was sat in her seat, being made up, when Kara finally came. In the mirror, their eyes met. And even though it had been **Kara**_ _who gave the ultimatum, the blonde seemed to deflate with relief, smiling. It was a shaky smile, but it reached her eyes with ease. Lena looked away first._

_Kara stood at her side for a moment, opening and closing her mouth in a fashion that Lena once thought of as endearing. Now, all it did was grate at her nerves. Especially when Kara ended up walking away without a word._

_So, that was that._

_Lena went through the motions blankly. Somehow, mercifully, time passed quickly (or well, quicker) in her indifference. She smiled when she had to and held a conversation when spoken to, but otherwise, she felt distant. Like she was somewhere else, someone else, watching the proceedings through foggy lenses. There were moments where she had to murmur affirmations to Alex and Kelly and Sam and Nia—just about anyone and everyone—when they pulled her aside to ask if she was doing okay. Whether they believed her or not (likely not), she didn’t stick around to see; she moved on from the corner they pulled her into and avoided their inquisitive eyes._

_Soon enough, Lena stood at her place as a bridesmaid and watched as Kara walked down the aisle, beautiful and… happy. It hurt. It hurt because her heart was in disrepair and also because she wasn’t being a good friend. Kara was happy to be marrying the man she was, and Lena should… Lena should be happy for her. That’s what good friends do, wasn’t it? She was being selfish in her negativity._

_With that mindset, when their eyes met—nervous blue and somber green—Lena genuinely smiled for the first time that day and tried her best to convey her support. Just like Kara had asked. It worked. Kara beamed, bright and happier. Her features were all the more illuminated by the gown she wore. And Lena began to think that she could actually make it through the ceremony and wedding without her heart completely shattering._

_Then, that dreaded line came:_

_“Speak now, or forever hold your peace.”_

_Seven words, that’s all it took for the air to leave the room. Or perhaps that was just Lena. She couldn’t breathe anymore, her lungs burning and her heart aching. She didn’t dare look at Kara’s face, lest she witnessed the same anguish from yesterday._

_The hair at the nape of her neck stood on end. A familiar feeling, one that she trusted often. She was being watched. A simple glance around the room confirmed as much. But, to her surprise, there was more than a single pair of eyes on her. Waiting. Watching. Urging. Like they were putting all their hope into her, telling her to stop this wedding because they didn’t have the courage to. She was their saving grace… or sacrificial lamb._

_(“Either show up in support tomorrow or don’t come at all.”)_

_Well, they bet on the wrong horse._

_She stayed silent._

_And Kara got married unhindered._

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
